THE   PROMISE  OF  THE  AGES 


BY 

CHARLES  AUGUSTUS   KEELER 


Yet  I  doubt  not  thro1  the  ages  one  increasing  purpose  runs, 
And  the  thoughts  of  men  are  widen' d  with  the  process  of  the  suns. 

—TENNYSON. 


COPYRIGHT,  1896 

BY 
CHARLES  AUGUSTUS  KEELER 


fts 
T 


Pi 


MA 

To  JOSEPH  LE  CONTE 


Seeker,  whose  science  overmasters  the  spirit's  despair,— 
Teacher,  whose  truth  mounts  to  heaven  in  worship  and 

prayer,— 
Prophet,  whose  deeds  are  a  witness  of  faith,  free  and 

strong, — 
Not  to  tender  vain  tribute  to  thee,  do  I  pledge  thee  my 

song, 
But  to  gain,  from  thy  life  and  thy  love,  benediction,  dear 

friend, 
To  hallow  my  labor  with  graces  thy  presence  can  lend. 


INTRODUCTION. 

The  law  of  evolution  forms  the  keynote  of  this 
latter  nineteenth  century.  It  is  the  principle  of  trans 
formation,  of  growth,  of  progress.  It  has  profoundly 
modified  our  thought  in  all  fields  of  observation  and 
speculation,  reconstructing  the  foundations  of  science, 
and  challenging  the  dogmas  of  religion.  In  striking 
contrast  to  this  modern  conception  of  the  origin  of  the 
forms  of  existence,  is  the  more  venerable  doctrine  of 
a  divine  creation,  executed  consciously  by  the  volition 
of  God  in  order  that  His  love  might  find  expression  in 
tangible  form.  The  clash  of  these  two  opinions,  with 
their  innumerable  side  issues,  is  termed  the  conflict 
of  science  and  religion.  If  religion  is  to  prevail  in  this 
conflict,  it  will  be  at  the  price  of  certain  concessions 
popularly  deemed  of  intrinsic  importance,  and  espe 
cially  by  the  surrender  of  all  which  cannot  be  defended 
by  reason,  namely,  the  miraculous. 

Upon  this  basis,  I  have  attempted,  in  the  following 
pages,  to  present  the  struggles  of  an  earnest  mind  with 
some  of  the  modern  life-problems;  and,  in  the  per- 


sonality  of  the  Prophet,  to  exhibit  these  questions  as 
they  pass  through  the  mind  of  the  idealist. 

The  poem  recognizes  the  principle  of  evolution, 
but  seeks  to  transcend  this  with  the  higher  thought  of 
the  ultimate  reality  of  the  spirit.  It  is  an  attempt  at 
a  synthesis  of  the  essential  ideas  of  Darwin  and  Em 
erson.  The  frank  use  of  the  subject-matter  of  science 
in  poetry  may  be  called  in  question,  but  a  justification 
for  this  is  found  in  the  recognition  of  love  as  the 
animating  principle  beneath  all  the  conflict  and  tumult 
of  the  ages.  c-  A-  K- 

BERKELEY  CAL. 

August,  1896 


THE   PROMISE  OF   THE  AGES. 


THE   PROMISE  OF  THE  AGES. 


BOOK  I. 

In  meadows  prank'd  with  sun-enamour'd  flowers, 

'Mid  cool  wood  wilds,  fern-paved  and  leaf-embower'd, 

On  mountain  steeps,  by  ocean's  storm-rent  strand, 

Young  Percival,  unwearied,  wandered  on 

Through  life's  fair  pageant,  truth  intoxicate, — 

Vain  searcher — pleading  at  the  van  of  time 

For  some  still  voice  from  earth's  mute  lips  of  stone, 

Some  sign  amid  the  senseless  trees  that  sway — 

Canst  find  no  respite  from  inconstancy  ? 

The  very  seasons  glided  'neath  his  gaze 

Like  ebb  and  flow  of  ocean's  tireless  tide, 

And  fair  day  floated  far  on  wings  of  gloom. 

The  birds,  o'erladen  with  their  golden  song, 

Swept  like  a  gale  of  joy  through  spring's  glad  bow'rs, 

By  faith  impelled  to  love's  blest  miracle. 

Then  busy  bills  upgather'd  flexile  sprays, 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

The  willow's  bloom  or  drifted  thistle-down, — 

And  homes  were  shaped  to  hold  the  dappled  eggs. 

Life's  mystery  revealed  the  callow  young, 

By  watchful  care  upreared,  by  love  made  strong; 

But,  like  the  leaves  that  fall  from  autumn's  boughs, 

They  scatter' d  from  the  groves  and  left  them  drear. 

11  O  Time,  with  thrifty  fingers  weaving  all 

This  mighty  garb  of  earth,"  cried  Percival, 

"  Canst  thou  not  show  me  truth's  enduring  form 

Lurking  within  this  guise  of  changefulness?" 

But  time  swept  on  and  rested  not  to  tell, 

While  doubt  and  gloom  encompassed  Percival. 

"  O  what  is  truth,  where  all  is  death  or  change, 

And  what  is  love  in  life's  inconstancy, 

And  what  is  life  but  shadow  doomed  to  fade: 

Truth,  love,  life,  all  a  mockery  and  show!" 

Thus,  bosomed  in  his  own  despairing  dream, 

He  saw  life's  shadow-splendor  melt  away 

To  emptiness  and  death.     O  heart  forlorn, 

Arise  from  bitterness  and  seek  anew ! 

Thou  hast  not  delved  in  man's  unfathomed  heart 

For  treasure  earth  denies  thee !    Solitude 

Can  never  yield  thy  guerdon,  vainly  craved ! 

For,  ever,  ere  hope's  darkest  hour  is  spent, 

Come  peace  and  joy  to  lift  the  heart  that  pines; 

No  spirit  lives  but  some  loved  counterpart 

10 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Awaits  the  day  to  greet  its  kindred  soul. 

So  Percival,  when  hope  and  trust  had  fled, 

Found,  in  a  life  that  brooded  o'er  his  own, 

The  matchless  rapture  of  a  loving  mind. 

A  man  of  mighty  destiny  was  he, 

Whom  time  had  treasured  to  the  uttermost. 

His  fragile  form  the  weary  years  had  bent, 

While  silverly  his  locks  fell  round  his  brow, 

And,  in  the  fire  of  eyes  deep  sunk  from  age, 

A  light  gleamed  forth  that  pierced  the  veil  of  tears. 

To  Percival  he  seemed  as  one  divine, 

So  large  his  nature,  so  serene  his  mind, 

His  thought,  transfigured  from  the  dross  of  earth, 

In  heaven's  more  ample  regions  roving  free. 

A  prophet,  Percival  proclaimed  his  friend, 

And  would  not  hear  him  called  by  other  name. 

Large-hearted  creature,  he  revealed  himself, — 

A  messenger  with  life's  good  word  to  bear 

To  all,  from  that  exhaustless  mind  of  love. 

They  wandered  oft  in  fond  companionship, 

'Mid  silvan  haunts  where  roved  the  shy  wood-things, 

Through  forest  halls,  by  wild  birds  tenanted, 

That  rang  with  notes  so  sweet  and  far  away, 

It  seemed  the  singing  choir  of  heav'n  was  heard; 

And  here  in  nature's  temple  worshiped  they, 

The  wind's  soft  organ  tones  low  antheming, 

11 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

The  brook's  pure  waters  praying  ceaselessly, 
And  all  the  air  attuned  to  peace  and  joy. 
One  eve  they  lingered  past  the  set  of  sun, 
The  golden  glow  slow  waning  in  the  west, 
While  silent  stars,  long  pent  in  day's  bright  glare, 
Came  stealing  forth  to  watch  the  somber  night, 
And  deep'ning  shadows  spread  across  the  plain. 
Then  looked  they  starward  through  the  boundless 

deep, 

Awed  by  the  solemn  miracle  of  night, 
When  Percival  gan  ask  the  cause  of  all, — 
The  genesis  and  growth  of  stars  and  worlds, 
The  uncreated,  shaped  and  bodied  forth 
By  law's  resistless  process,  time  ordained. 
Then  answered  him  the  Prophet,  thought  imbued, 
As  one  inspired  by  God's  transcendent  toil, 
Thus  speaking  in  the  earnest  hush  of  night: 

"In  the  beginning  was  God,  who  was  wholly  a  Spirit 
of  love, — 

A  Spirit  of  limitless  love,  with  His  measureless  treas 
ure  to  give, — 

With  His  infinite  beauty  of  love,  to  be  given  sublimely 
away. 

And  the  Spirit  of  God  was  awake  in  the  darkness  that 
brooded  afar, 

12 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Awake  in  the  night  and  the  void,  with  the  slumberless 
love  at  His  heart; 

And  out  of  His  loving  there  streamed,  through  the 
night  and  the  void  supreme, 

A  numberless  throng  of  His  children,  to  share  with 
his  infinite  good. 

They  thronged  through  the  darkness  in  silence,  un 
knowing  how  fair  they  were  formed, 

Unknowing  the  wealth  and  the  wonder  of  beauty  they 
bore  through  the  night; 

God  only  aware  of  the  wonder  His  will  had  achieved 
of  His  love, 

Aware  of  the  beauty  of  man,  that  was  shrouded  in 
mist  of  the  stars. 

Through  man  grew  the  glory  of  heaven,— the  splen 
dors  of  earth  and  of  air, 

And  the  tumult  and  trouble  of  time,  as  it  speeds  on 
its  weariless  way; 

For  man  is  the  image  of  God  —  the  wonderful  work 
of  His  thought — 

And  the  world  is  the  image  of  man  —  of  his  measure 
less,  mystical  mind, 

Of  his  mind  that  is  growing  to  freedom,  through  seons 
of  turbulent  time, — 

From  chaos  upgrowing  to    knowledge,   from  envy 
expanding  to  love. 

13 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

From  star-dust  to  Godhood  still  climbing,  man  meas 
ures  the  fathomless  spheres, — 

With  love  and  with  tears  he  is  sounding  their  ultimate 
deeps, — 

And  this  is  the  way  of  his  climbing,  to  look  in  the  face 
of  his  God: 

When  man  first  breathed   of  the  breath  which  his 

bountiful  Father  had  given, 
When  first  His  thought  went  forth,  to  make  him  a 

world  for  a  home, 
There  was  nothing  but  law  in  His  world  that  had 

triumphed  o'er  chaos  and  night, 
The  alterless  law  of  His  being,  unswerving  through 

cycles  of  change; 
And  out  of  His  law  and  His  thought  grew  the  palpitant 

star-dust  of  heaven, 
The  quivering  star-dust,  aglow  with  the  fury  of  worlds 

in  the  making. 

White-hot  was  the  strenuous  beating  of  infinite  labor 
ing  atoms, — 
The  atoms  that  rolled  into  suns,  with  the  rumble  of 

turbulent  thunder, — 
That  throbbed  in  the  nebulous  suns  that  were  rushing 

through  darkness  supreme. 
Each  star  took  the  station  assigned  it  in  heaven's 

unsearchable  span, 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

And  sang  as  it  swept  in  its  orbit  that  turned  at  the 
lodestar's  control; 

For  thus  was  ordained  by  the  Father,  that  harmony 
ever  should  rule; 

And  thus  sang  the  spheres,  in  their  motion,  of  har 
mony  perfect  through  time. 

From  the  vaporous  stars'  mighty  girdles,  the  planets 

were  scattered  afar, 
Foredoomed  to  a  path  through  the  heavens  enchained 

to  the  orb  they  had  spurned. 
The  sun,  in  a  quivering  phrenzy,  shook  Neptune  away 

from  her  side, 
And  shrank  with  a  shuddering  tremor  away  from  her 

radiant  child; 

Uranus  was  born  in  a  tumult  of  furious  fiery  flame, 
And  Saturn  swept  forth  in  his  wonder,  and  Jupiter 

burst  through  the  night, — 
The  mightiest  child  of  the  sun  from  his  luminous 

parent  was  rent; 
Then  Mars,  the  presager  of  battles,  and  Earth,  where 

the  battles  were  fought, — 
Fair  Earth,  the  kind  mother  who  fostered  the  faltering 

spirit  of  man, — 
Fair  Earth,  blessed  battle-ground,  holy,  where  man 

struggled  on  to  the  light, — 

15 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Where  still  he  is  toiling  for  freedom,  for  beauty,  for 

truth,  and  for  love. 
While  Earth,  with  her  volatile  splendor,  was  robing 

the  darkness  in  light, 
Fair  Venus  was  born  in  the  heavens,  a  witness  of 

widening  love; 
And  Mercury,  loath  to  relinquish  the  sun  that  had 

held  him  so  long, 
The  last  of  the  planets  created,  was  hurled  into  space 

without  end. 

Thus,  slowly  and  solemnly  builded,  while  time  urged 

its  way  through  the  void, 
The  stars  and  the  planets,  evolving,  reflected  the 

beauty  of  mind, — 
Reflected  the  order  and  purpose  that  God  on   His 

sons  had  bestowed, — • 
Unfolding  the  power  of  heaven, —  upholding,  fulfilling 

the  law. 
Stars,  stars,  multitudinous  stars,  that  tremble  afar 

through  the  aether, 
That  baffle  the  mind  with  their  number,  wide-reaching 

away  through  the  gloom, — 

Swift  speeding,  with  planets  attendant,  in  orbits  un 
erringly  true, 
All  molded  of  mists  of  the  heavens,  in  the  fiery  forge 

of  the  soul, — 

16 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Not  all  of  thy  wonders  and  numbers  can  equal  the 
scope  of  a  soul ! 

O  man,  with  the  earth  thou  art  weaving,  and  fashion 
ing  all  of  thy  soul, 

How  little  thou  dream'st  that  thy  fabric  is  utterly 
wrought  of  the  soul, — 

How  little  thou  knowest  thy  greatness  for  evil  or  good 
to  the  whole  ! 

Yea,  verily,  God  has  endowed  thee  with  power  of 
perfect  control, 

And  through  thee  the  troubles  of  aeons  in  infinite 
majesty  roll ! 

The  Prophet  ceased,  and  hushed  was  ev'ry  sound, 
The  earth  outstretched  beneath,  the  stars  o'erhead, 
The  night  attuned  to  deep  solemnity. 
Then  walked  they  forth,  no  words  escaping  them, 
For  God's  mysterious  presence  seemed  so  near, 
As  star  by  star  trooped  by  in  splendor  dight, — 
Worlds  limitless  in  night's  eternal  breast. 
The  wind's  low  harp  played  tones  seolean 
Across  the  grassy  glades,  and  lips  were  heard 
By  Percival  that  syllabled  sweet  strains  — 
Wind  voices  singing  low  their  vesper  lay: 


17 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Sibylline  singing, 
Rolling  and  ringing ', 
Weary  of  winging 
Its  musical  way  — 
Pauses  appealing, 
Its  meaning  concealing ', 
Its  rapture  revealing 
In  heaven's  array. 

Starry  forms  dancing, 
Gliding  and  glancing 
Where  mists  are  enhancing 
Their  mystical  glee. 
Pause  in  their  pleasure, 
And  leap  toward  the  measure 
Of  sibylline  treasure, 
So  wanton  and  free. 


18 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 


BOOK    II. 

O  moment  big  as  destiny,  that  fills 

A  lifelong  brooding  with  its  fruitfulness  ! 

O  thought,  transcending  time  and  change  and  dread, 

By  hearts  of  love  for  aye  interpreted  ! 

In  Percival's  fond  mind  the  Prophet's  form, 

Illumined  dimly  by  the  stars'  cold  glow, 

Stood  like  a  pillar  of  eternal  stone 

To  thrill  his  sight  with  ceaseless  wonderment; 

And  through  the  silence  rang  those  earnest  words 

In  haunting  tones  of  solemn  mystery:  — 

The  stars  —  man's  thought  incarnate  in  the  sky  — 

The  earth — man's  home,  in  love  and  wonder  wrought — 

And  man — the  Alpha  and  Omega,  son 

Of  God  Himself,  who  rules  and  loves  His  child ! 

What  themes  unthought  were  here  to  peer  upon; 

What  weird  brain  fancies  teemed  in  hill  and  sky, 

All  unrevealed  to  man's  insensate  ken ! 

This  creature,  shaped  by  time's  unceasing  toil, 

To  crown  life's  pageant  with  a  fitting  show, 

19 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

The  Master  made  a  god,  time  fashioning,— 

Building  a  universe  of  thought  alone. 

The  neophyte  knew  not  the  Prophet's  mind, 

Veiled  in  its  mystery  of  subtle  lore, 

And  doubt  oppressed  him  with  a  fresh  dismay 

When   love,   new-grown  and    strong,   could    scarce 

compel 

Compliance  to  a  creed  of  fancy  wrought. 
His  young  heart,  panting  with  adorement  meet, 
Rebelled  as  earth's  firm  floor  beneath  him  swayed, 
And  all  tried  things  grew  insecure  and  vain. 
The  Master  felt  his  skeptic  mood  and  said, 
"  Fear  not  the  doubt  that  busies  thee  with  pain, 
And  robs  my  words  of  aught  of  worth  or  pow'r; 
'Tis  half  of  truth,  and  faith  supplies  the  rest, 
For  Doubt  and  Faith,  twin  daughters  of  the  soul, 
With  hands  uplifted  hold  the  cup  of  truth, 
No  guerdon  granting  to  the  parched  brain, 
Save  when  by  each  the  suppliant  stands  approved. 
Thus  is  this  dream  of  earth  and  heav'n  made  real. 
See  at  our  feet  this  senseless  form  of  stone, 
Dead  nothingness  of  time-ensculptured  clay, 
Wherewith  the  mind  regenerates  the  past, 
Pent  in  its  passive  form,  and  reads  therein 
A  mighty  fable  of  forgotten  days — 
The  conflict  of  the  ages  —  earth  the  field 

20 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

And  heaven  the  prize  of  battle,  still  unwon." 

"  And  wilt  thou  tell  me,  Prophet,  all  the  lore 

Of  storied  legend  writ  upon  the  stone, 

And  wilt  thou  read  the  scriptures  treasured  there?" 

So  pleaded  Percival,  and  thus  replied 

His  teacher,  thought  engrossed  in  earth's  grand  theme : 

"  In  deep-embosomed  silentness  the  earth  enfolds  a 

tale, 

With  misery  and  mystery  enwoven  page  on  page; 
With  misery  and  victory  triumphantly  proclaimed, — 
Triumphant  tribulation  for  the  garnishment  of  time ! 
I  gaze  upon  the  story  in  the  writing  on  the  rocks, 
The  story  of  the  ages  since  the  birth  of  Mother  Earth, 
And  O  my  heart  is  brimming  with  the  beauty  of  the  tale, 
And  O  my  senses  falter  at  its  magnitude  and  might ! 

Old  ocean,  ever  laboring  upon  the  shores  of  time, 
With  pitiless  persistency  engulfing  rock  and  strand; 
Ye  rivers,  ever  rushing  from  the  mountains  to  the  sea, 
With  freight  of  sand  to  bear  away,  to  build  the  ocean's 

floor; 

Ye  pelting  rains,  that  patter  on  the  parapets  of  earth — 
I  marvel  at  the  story  yehave  stored  beneath  the  deep, — 
The  story  of  the  cooling  of  the  incandescent  earth, — 
The  conquering  of  fire  by  the  elements  of  air! 

21 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

O  who  can  thread  the  labyrinth  of  far-receding  time, 
And  stand  amid  the  wilderness  on  Earth's  Archaean 

shore, 
Where  darkest  desolation  dims  the  dawning  with  its 

gloom, 
And  black  the  barren  rocks  are  thrust  above  the 

seething  sea, 
To  cling  amidst  the  sullen  clouds  that  veil  the  sordid 

land? 

The  sea  was  fiercely  howling  then  on  bleak  tempes 
tuous  strand, 
And  fierce  the  thund'ring  fires  smote  and  shook  the 

shattered  shore, 
But  not  an  ear  was  there  to  hear,  and  not  a  heart  to 

quail ! 

The  rocks  have  locked  the  mystery  of  earth's  re 
motest  time, 

Amid  their  silent  fastnesses  securely  stored  away;^ 
But  O  the  prying  hand  of  man,  and  O  the  prying 

brain ! 

With  infinite  preparings,  in  the  darkness  of  the  deep, 
Another  age  was  dawning  with  the  mystery  of  life, 
With  the  seeds  of  all  eternity,  the  germs  of  all  to  be, 
Lying  lifeless  in  the  ocean  with  its  latent  life  sublime,— 
Lying  silent,  with  a  patience  God  alone  can  under 
stand, 

22 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

With  His  watching  and  His  waiting  for  the  crowning 

form  of  man. 
In  the  silent  seas  Silurian  the  frame  of  man  was 

planned, 
While  feeble  groping  creatures  swarmed  amid  the 

troubled  deep, 
And  myriads  of  mollusks  crowded  all  the  crumbling 

shores, 
Crowded  all  the  shores  that  shuddered  in  the  silent 

lapse  of  time. 

And  now  the  rocks  are  telling  me  their  tale  Devonian, 
Of  mighty  fish  in   armor  clad,   that    throng' d    the 

throbbing  tide, 

All  silent  now  in  endless  sleep  of  stony  death  sublime; 
For  fate  has  swept  the  sounding  sea  with  carnage  near 

and  far, 
And  death   was    weeding    all    the  waste    in    times 

Devonian. 

The  forests  of  the  age  of  coal,  I  see  in  splendor  dight, 
With  all  their  wild  luxuriance  of  fern  and  tropic  fen, 
Of  waving  plumes  and  tangled  trees,  that  bend  above 

the  bog, 

And  silent  creatures  growing  into  potency  and  might. 
Now  dawns  the  day  of  reptile  hosts,   uncouth  and 

strange  of  form, 

Uncanny  things  that  swim  and  creep,  and  lift  them 
selves  in  air, — 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Huge  ichthyosaurs  and  dragons  scaled,   misshapen, 

vast  in  bulk, 
Like  monarchs  of  the  nether  world  on  destiny's  fair 

shore. 

Time  wears  away  its  wonderment  as  ages  slowly  roll, 
The  low  succumb  to  higher  types,  the  weary  faint  and 

die; 
The  age  has  come  for  nobler  forms, — the  reptile  slinks 

away; 
The  peerless  bird  ascends  the  blue,   the  mammal 

treads  the  plain. 
He  tramples  o'er  the  fallen  host,  he  conquers  all  the 

land, 
He  rises  in  his  majesty  and  proves  the  might  of 

mind. 
The  dreary  age  of  ice  may  come  to  test  the  work  of 

time, 
And  whiten  all  the  lovely  land  with  deadly  driving 

snow, 

But  still  the  southward-sweeping  horde,  unconquer 
ably  strong, 

Is  reaching  ever  higher  with  a  craving  unrepressed, — 
Growing  eagerly  to  manhood  with  its  victory  of  soul, 
With  the  limitless  possessions  that  are  placed  within 

its  reach. 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Triumphantly  the  task  of  time  looks  backward  o'er 

its  span, 
And  sees  the  tender  love  of  God,   fruition  find  in 

man." 

His  words  upon  the  silent  air  took  wing, 

The  heedless  wind  their  accents  hurrying 

Afar  where  thought  their  echo  scarce  could  tell, 

As,  note  by  note,  to  nothingness  they  fell; 

But  Percival  with  busy  brain  had  caught 

Each  syllable  with  earth's  far  pageant  fraught, 

And  cherished  all  its  wonder.     Age  by  age 

Had  earth  unrolled  each  mighty  figured  page, 

Like  some  old  Sibyl's  pond'rous  book  of  fate, 

Where  time  had  writ  what  death  might  consecrate. 

And  this  was  truth, — this  faith  revealed  in  stone, 

In  tablets  graved  ere  Moses  stood  alone 

Before  his  God,  to  learn  what  high  decree 

Should  vest  him  with  divine  supremacy, — 

This  faith  the  dead  past  bore  to  life  again, — 

This  growth,  this  striving,  this  enduring  pain ! 

So  Percival  believed,  and  so  he  said; 

The  Prophet,  musing,  shook  his  hoary  head: 

"  Thy  mind  too  easily  is  set  at  rest; 

Too  soon  wouldst  thou  conclude  thy  endless  quest. 

With  tireless  mind  press  on,  nor  rest  content 

25 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Till  them  hast  gained  the  soul's  far  firmament. 
With  endless  steps  still  tread  the  paths  divine, 
Though  doubt  withhold  the  light  of  hope  benign. 
With  boundless  yearning  spurn  the  depths  you  've 

trod, 
And  climb  the  dizzy  heights  where  waits  your  God !" 

The  Prophet's  eyes  were  lit  with  ardent  light, 

His  earnest  face,  so  thin,  was  marble  white, 

As  one  about  to  die,  inspired  to  tell, 

With  voice  of  God,  life's  deathless  miracle; 

But  Percival  saw  not  the  failing  eye, 

Enkindled  as  it  was  by  ecstasy, — 

Saw  not  the  snowy  brow,  nor  pallid  cheek, 

So  thrilled  he  was,  so  eager  still  to  seek 

The  truth  that  seemed  to  mock  his  vain  desire, 

In  shadow  vestments  floating  ever  higher. 

"  O  tell  me,  Master,  more  of  earth's  domain, — 

Albeit  my  quest  seems  futile  and  in  vain, —  • 

Of  atoms  shaped  by  law's  resistless  will 

In  forms  innumerous,  that  haunt  and  fill 

All  space  with  wonder — by  their  chemic  spell 

Upbuilding  life's  unfathom'd  miracle." 

So  spoke  the  thoughtless  youth.     The  Master  said 

In  musing  undertone,  heart-wearied: 

26 


THE    PROMISE    OF   THE    AGES. 

"  Reach  upward,  O  world-soul,  and  span  the  domain 

of  the  stars; 
Gaze  outward,  and  scan  the  unending  contrivings  of 

time; 
Peer  inward,  and  view  the  swift  atoms  astir  at  thy 

heart,— 

The  atoms  all  working  together  to  further  thy  aims. 
O  world-soul,  thy  structure,  so  massive,  is  builded 

entire 
Of  atoms  that  throng  in  a  sun-mote,  and  throb  in  a 

beam; 
And  the  least  thing  is  great  in  thy  counting  that 

reckons  the  stars, 
That  numbers  the  sands  of  the  sea-beach,  the  leaves 

of  the  grove, 
And  the  cells  of  the  tissues,  compacted  with  infinite 

care. 

What  alchemy,  passing  all  wonder,  thy  labor  reveals, 
As  the  atoms,  each  spelled  to  its  duty,  pass  forth  in 

review, — 
Combining  and  changing  and  ranging  through  worlds 

and  through  time, — 
Incessantly  throbbing,  and  threading  the  mazes  of 

earth, — 
Unerringly  trained  to  the  task  they  are  doomed  to 

perform." 

27 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

His  words  grew  faint  and  died  in  sighs  away, 

And  Percival  beheld,  with  swift  dismay, 

The  deadly  weariness  that  shook  his  frame. 

The  youth's  fair  cheek  was  flushed  with  sudden  shame 

To  think  what  weight  of  woe  his  thoughtless  pride 

Had  caused  to  him  his  heart  had  deified. 

The  Prophet  gently  soothed  his  mind,  contrite, 

And  laughed  away  his  needless  pang  of  fright; 

Then,  parting,  promised  many  another  walk, 

And  many  an  hour  of  sweet,  regardful  talk. 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 


BOOK     III. 

O  doubt  that  cannot  be  suppressed, 
That  twines  its  tendrils  round  the  heart 
And  clings  and  grows  forever  there ! 
O  love  that  waxeth  strong  with  time, 
That  swells  to  fill  the  heart  with  bliss, 
Till  clogged  by  doubt,  the  parasite! 
No  note  of  time  took  Percival, 
So  deep  engrossed  his  mind  and  heart, 
While  day  slipped  into  night,  and  night, 
Unheeded,  lapsed  again  to  day. 
Oft-times  he  dreamed  of  sacrifice, — 
Of  losing  self  in  him  he  loved, — 
Of  utter  faith,  unthinking,  dead, — 
The  Prophet's  word  alone  his  law; 
But,  while  he  thought,  a  sense  of  shame 
Crept  like  a  vapor  from  the  grave, 
To  shroud  him  in  a  sheet  of  scorn. 
"Abandon  self?    Nay,  not  to  God 
Would  I  relinquish  selfhood's  claim!" 
His  spirit  thrilled  to  own  its  right, — 


29 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

To  know  itself  a  living  soul. 
Thus  doubting,  Percival  beheld 
The  silent  night  that  brooded  round, 
And  spake  these  words  amid  the  dark: 

"Universe  of  solitude,  where  stars  and  atoms  glide, 
Desolate  seclusion  in  the  tempest-tossing  time, 
Ceaselessly  evolving  as  the  ages  slowly  ride 
Onward  toward  accomplishment  of  purposes  sublime, — 
Ceaselessly  upleading  the  potential  to  the  light, 
Tell  me  what  the  secret  is  thy  heart  has  hid  away; 
Tell  me  what  the  spirit  is  that  scans  the  hollow  night, — 
Tell  me  all  the  wonderment  of  life' s  unending  day" 

There  is  naught  more  fair  than  the  heaving  sea, 
There  is  naught  more  strange  than  the  boundless 

sky, 

Save  the  mind  that  encompasseth  sea  and  sky, 
Save  the  love  that  enfoldeth  the  world  in  its  spell. 
And  Percival  rose  from  his  dream  of  the  night, 
From  his  doubt  and  his  pain,  to  a  light,  new  grown, — 
To  the  light  from  within  that  illumines  the  whole. 

Full  eagerly  he  sought  the  Prophet's  side, 
And  they  together  walked  beside  the  sea, — 
There  where  the  waters  make  perpetual  moan. 

30 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES, 

The  mad  waves  swept  upon  the  sandy  shore, 

And,  backward  gliding,  left  strange  tokens  there, — 

Frail  lace-work  wrought  in  green  and  gold  and  red, 

Fit  to  adorn  some  mermaid's  waving  hair; 

And  shells  of  lustrous  pearl  the  waves  had  filched 

From  caverns  under  sea,  and  creatures  weird 

That  dwell  amid  the  ever-silent  deeps. 

Here  Percival  addressed  the  sage,  devout, 

To  ask  from  whence  man's  spirit  wandered  here, — 

To  learn  what  linked  him  to  eternity. 

Then  mightily  the  Prophet's  voice  uprose, 

(Mingling  with  ocean's  massive  undertone) 

As  there  he  stood,  bareheaded,  by  the  sea, 

And  answered  thus  the  boy  who  worshiped  him: 

"This  thundering  epic  of  time  and  of  tears, 
With  its  terrible  story,  titanic  and  grim, 
How  it  moves  us  to  wonder  and  spells  us  with  awe, 
As  we  read  it,  and  roam  through  its  tumult  and  strife! 
How  awful  this  tale  of  the  past  with  its  troubles 
Through  conquering  ages  down-trampled  by  truth! 
O  time  and  eternity,  battling  unceasingly, 
Never  shall  end  this  insatiate  strife! 

Am  I  but  a  spark,  in  the  drama  of  ages, 

That  flashes  from  darkness  and  burns  into  naught, — 

31 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

A  bubble  that  floats  on  the  ocean  eternal, 

And  bursts  on  the  crest  of  a  white  wave  of  time? 

Nay,  nay,  I  remember,  in  seons  past  counting, 

When  lowly  I  groped  in  the  gloom  of  the  sea, 

In  the  glamourous  gloom  of  the  passionless  deep, — 

A  lowly  Ascidian,  feeble  and  powerless, 

Strong  but  in  longing  and  yearning  for  light. 

Silently,  haltingly,  ploddingly  seeking, 

I  found  the  first  treasure  that  heaven  had  sent, — 

I  found  it  and  clung  to  its  beauty  and  majesty, — 

World  without  end  it  revealed  to  my  sight ! 

The  wonderful  world  of  the  sea  and  the  silence 

Were  mine,  only  mine,  to  desire,  to  own; 

I  burst  from  my  bondage  with  thoughts  that  aspired 

Still  higher  amid  the  wide  waste  of  the  deep. 

A  fish  I  had  grown,  with  the  speed  of  the  foam, 

And  I  lashed  through  the  waters  and  leaped  at  the 

stars; 

I  fled  from  the  giants  infesting  the  deep, 
And  I  grew,  ever  grew,  as  the  ages  swept  past. 

I  leaped  at  the  stars,  and  I  longed  in  my  leaping 
To  breathe  the  free  air  of  the  crystalline  sky; 
Millenniums  passed  while  I  strove  for  my  freedom, 
And  crept  to  the  shore,  there  to  grovel  and  toil, — 

32 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

To  crawl  through   the  slime  of  the  shores  and  the 

shallows, — 

A  reptilian  thing  I  was  destined  to  be, 
Till  the  warmth  and  the  passion,  still  latent  within  me, 
Broke  forth  in  my  blood  and  impelled  me  to  climb,— 
To  climb  on  the  mountains,— to  leap  in  the  forest,— 
To  fight  and  to  fall  and  to  mount  on  the  slain,— 
To  triumph  exultant,  with  fangs  deeply  bedded 
In  the   flesh   of   a  foe,   where    the    blood    spurted 

fast,— 

Relentlessly  bedded,  as,  greedily  gorging, 
I  fed  on  the  foe  I  had  conquered  and  killed. 

All  this  I  remember  as  backward  I  scan 
The  mighty  world-epic  that  fate  has  unrolled,— 
This  epic  of  life  I  have  lived  in  and  longed  in, 
Have  fought  in  and  loved  in  through  infinite  time: 
This  past  that  has  made  me  its  slave  and  its  master, 
As,  faster  receding  in  wave  after  wave, 
I  stand  and  behold  it,  I  clasp  it,— infold  it, 
When  lo!  it  retreats  to  its  limitless  grave  !  " 

The  Prophet  ended  thus,  while  Percival 
Stood  silent,  filled  with  awe,  and  spoke  no  word; 
But  from  the  waves  came  voices  deep  and  low, 
Singing  strange  melodies  in  muffled  tone,— 


33 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Wild  runes  from  singers  on  some  foreign  strand, 
The  voice  of  prophecy  from  lips  unseen: 

Man  regenerate, 
Love  insatiate, 
Hope  with  joy  elate, 
Groping  and  growing,— 
Thus  our  world  shall  be 
Climbing  to  liberty, 
Glad  in  its  victory, 
Reaping  and  sowing. 

Not  through  faith  alone, 
Light  on  our  journey  shone; 
Slowly  our  hope  has  grown, 
Baffled  while  groping ; 
Sowing  the  seed  we  reap, 
Strong  from  the  tears  we  weep; 
Love,  that  can  never  sleep, 
Still  keeps  us  hoping. 


84 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 


BOOK  IV. 

0  mighty  man  with  th'  wistful  eye, 

Sad  from  th'  untold  troubles  that  made  thee  strong, 
Hewn  of  the  rock  adversity,  to  stand, 
A  citadel  where  truth  and  love  abide, 

1  dare  not  enter  that  celestial  court, 

Thy  heart,  to  peer  upon  its  hallowed  sanctity. 
No,  rather  let  thy  spirit,  dove-like,  brood 
About  the  spring-time,  bringing  peace  and  rest, 
Whilst  thou,  within  thy  fathomless  abode, 
Dost  gaze  forth  calmly  on  th'  awak'ning  year,— 
Gaze  forth  to  see  thy  dearest  hopes  decline, — 
Thy  love  return' d  by  cold  forgetfulness. 

The  spring  had  come  with  glad,  tumultuous  song, 
And  ev'ry  bird's  young  heart  was  keen  with  love. 
The  flowers  came  crowding  through  the  sodden  earth 
And  looked  upon  the  glory  of  the  sun. 
Joy,  joy  and  love  were  over  all  the  land; 
But  Percival  no  longer  walked  abroad 

35 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

With  him  who  loved  him  day  by  day  more  dear, — 
No  longer  thirsted  for  immortal  truth, — 
In  moody  solitude  lone  wandering. 
The  Master,  with  pleach' d  arms  and  head  downcast, 
His  long  cloak  folded  round  his  fragile  form, 
Walk'd  unattended  'mid  the  gladsome  spring. 
One  time  they  met  in  haunts  endeared  of  old, — 
The  youth,  abashed,  the  Master,  still  the  same, 
Greeting  his  friend  in  unreproachful  tone. 

His  gentleness  o'ercame  the  boy's  reserve, 
And  presently  they  talked,  as  when  of  old 
They  wandered  gladly  'mid  the  wilderness. 
But  Percival  no  longer  asked  of  stars, 
Or  atoms,  or  of  life's  unending  toil, 
Seeking  in  lieu  their  Fashioner  divine, — 
The  God  who  worked  these  miracles  of  change. 
The  Prophet  sadly  answer'd  him  in  tones 
Of  bitterness,  like  some  deep  song  of  death: 

"On  His  mighty  throne 
Sits  the  Great  Unknown, 
Alone!  alone! 
His  throne  is  the  world, 
And  His  voice  is  hurled 
Where  the  stars  have  flown. 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

The  skies  are  ringing 

With  mighty  singing, 

From  the  voice  of  the  Great  Unknown; 

And  I  hear  His  song 

In  a  world  of  wrong, 

And  bless  each  somber  tone 

Of  the  Great  Unknown. 

His  song  is  the  heart's  deep  moan 

Of  pity  and  love  and  longing, 

In  tumult  thronging 

From  the  world  of  the  flesh—  His  throne!" 

There  was  a  sadness  in  the  Master's  voice, 

A  dread  solemnity,  that  seemed  to  fall 

Like  organ  tones  from  some  cathedral  pile, 

Crumbling  in  hoar  antiquity  away; 

And  Percival  drew  near  the  Prophet's  side, 

And  took  his  withered  hand,  and  looked  at  him. 

Something  the  youth  would  say,  but  knew  not  how. 

Thus  stood  they,  hand  in  hand,  beneath  the  trees, 

The  spring's  blest  benediction  over  them, 

Each  for  the  other's  unknown  sorrow  pain'd. 


87 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 


BOOK    V. 

There  came  a  day,  of  all  fair  days  most  fair, 

When  birds,  amid  the  budded  boughs  astir, 

Were  building,  for  their  nestlings,  downy  homes,— 

When  ev'ry  flow'r  was  sought  by  toiling  bee 

To  bear  its  nectar  to  the  hived  cell; 

But  some  strange  trouble  haunted  Percival, 

And  spring's  rare  joyance  only  made  him  sad. 

At  last,  disburdening  his  heavy  heart, 

The  Prophet  standing  by  to  hear  his  pain, 

He  burst  forth,  praying  to  the  pow'rs  of  time: 

"  O  lift  from  my  spirit  this  burden,  this  curse  that  I 

bear, 

Like  a  felon  in  fetters,  atoning  for  ages  of  sin. 
The  heir  of  eternity's  sinning,  I  bend  'neath  the  load, 
And  wait  for  the  crushing  contention  to  lighten  my 

pain,— 
To  drag  me  to  darkness  and  chaos,— to  scatter  my 

breath 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Like  a  plague  and  a  pillage  to  people,  a  curse  among 

men. 

Heredity,  awful  usurper  of  time-growing  souls, 
Unpitying  power  appalling,  that  hearest  no  prayer,— 
No  prayer  through  the  darkest  desponding,  no  prayer 

from  the  heart, 
O  tell  me  why  I  should  be  chastened  for  sins  of  my 

sire; 
Why,  longing  to  grow,  I  am  baffled,  and  sink  to  the 

earth, 

To  fester,  forsaken,  forgotten,  by  life's  turbid  throng , 
While  others  surge  upward,  abetted  by  powers  that 

guide 
Th'   inscrutable  fate  of  the  universe,  time  without 

mind! 
Though  stars  grow  and   worlds  grow,  evolving  to 

greater  completeness, 
Though  life  bears  the  tree  of  the  ages  to  fruitage  in 


man 


Though  laws  grow,  and   knowledge  trends  steadily 

upward  and  onward, 
What  counts  this  for  me,  thus  accursed  in  the  dark 

and  defiled?" 

Ah !  there  was  pity  in  the  Master's  eye, 
For  Percival's  drear  plight  and  bitter  plaint, 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

And  tender  speech  he  made  consoling  him: 

"  Nay,  fate  has  not  bequeathed  so  sad  a  load 

To  mar  thy  life  with  fell  incertitude; 

Thy  father's  curse  may  haunt  thee  like  some  ghost 

Forever  near, —  perturbed  and  sick  from  sin, — 

But  thou  art  not  thy  father,  nor  the  ghost 

Of  some  ancestral  wrong.     Be  still  thyself! 

Forever  shape  thy  way  as  God  ordained, 

And  let  no  worldly  fear  encompass  thee. 

Not  in  a  day,  but  in  eternity, 

The  ghostly  past  is  laid  in  some  deep  grave 

Where  sin  falls  dead  and  molds  in  dust  away!" 

"  No,  Master,  not  for  self  alone  do  I 

Repine,"  said  Percival,  with  anxious  breath. 

The  other  looked  upon  the  ardent  youth, 

So  pallidly  beseeching  him  in  pain, 

And  knew  what  mortal  words  could  scarce  convey. 

"  Then  be  of  goodly  cheer,"  the  Master  said, 

And,  turning,  breathed  a  prayer  of  thankfulness, — 

A  prayer  to  Him  who,  deep  in  ev'ry  heart 

Lives  and  awaits  fulfillment, — life  for  love: 

"Lord,  Thou  hast  toiled  with  this  fair  frame  of  mine 
Through  generations  endless  as  the  stars; 
With  ceaseless  adaptation  molding  all 
To  fitness  and  fulfillment,  perfect  planned. 

40 


7 


. 

•^j       ^ 

THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

This  eye,  that  glorifies  my  darkened  soul 

With  light  and  beauty  trembling  from  afar, 

How  hast  Thou  fashioned  it  with  tireless  toil! 

When  all  was  dim  at  life's  umbrageous  dawn, 

Thy  wisdom  knew  the  wonder,  unfulfilled, — 

Transcendent  miracle,  by  growth  achieved  ! 

This  ear,  that  tells  the  soul  of  tones  divine, 

How  didst_Thou  frame  it  when  the  world  was  young, - 

In  silence  shaping  then  a  sea  of  song, 

Pent  in  the  world's  deep  heart  of  mystery. 

Yea,  all  the  beauty,  all  the  might  of  soul, 

Has  swum  upon  the  flood  of  flowing  time, 

Breasting  the  currents  of  adversity  ! 

O  Lord,  Thou  hast  ordained  the  laws  of  time 

In  all  the  wisdom  of  Thy  perfect  heart; 

And  I,  who  float  upon  its  heaving  breast, 

With  gratitude  deep  sunken  in  my  soul, 

Look  back  and  wonder  at  its  loveliness, — 

Look  back  and  see  Thy  godliness  revealed 

In  law  and  harmony  that  live  for  aye, — 

In  love  that  cannot  die,  but  deathless  stands, 

Flooding  the  world  with  light  —  a  Holy  Ghost 

In  ev'ry  heart,  that  weaves  all  lives  in  one." 

Tears  were  in  Percival's  fond  eye, 
And  thankfulness  upon  his  lip, 

41 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

And  joy  was  in  his  heart  of  hearts, 
For  that  dread  curse  was  lifted  now, 
By  those  sweet  words  of  helpfulness, — 
Those  words  of  faith  and  trust  and  love; 
And,  as  they  homeward  walked  among 
The  dreaming  trees,  the  Prophet  told 
Of  love  made  manifest  through  endless  toil, — 
Of  beauty  woven  into  truth  and  trust: 

A  weaver  is  weaving  away  in  seclusion, — 
Is  weaving  a  robe  for  immortals  to  wear; 
I  hear  the  low  shuffle  his  shuttle  is  making, 
In  measures  euphonic,  in  rhythmical  time, — 
The  dulcet  and  canorous  hum  of  his  shuttle, 
That  weaves  with  unwavering,  weariless  faith. 
The  winds  he  is  weaving  —  a  warp  for  his  fabric — 
The  winds  of  the  dripping  salt  caves  by  the  sea, — 
The  mellow  meandering  winds  of  the  meadow, — 
The  forest  winds,  soughing  and  sobbing  at  night: 
All  these  he  is  weaving,  a  warp  for  his  fabric, — 
All  these,  with  the  singing  of  birds  and  of  men, — 
The  music  of  maidens,  the  laughing  of  children, 
And  lowing  of  cattle,  as  evening  steals  on. 
The  clouds  and  the  sea  are  the  woof  for  his  weaving,- 
The  cumulus  clcuds  as  they  climb  through  the  sky, — 
The  pennants  of  sunset,  all  golden  and  crimson, — 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

The  white  waifs  of  summer  that  wander  alone ; 
The  sea,  with  its  motion  of  turbulent  waters, 
Its  crisp  curling  crests  and  its  flurry  of  foam, — 
Its  blue  waste  of  beauty,  majestic  and  endless, — 
Its  boundless  exuberance,  battling  for  aye. 
Thus  weaving,  with  weariless  music,  his  fabric, 
The  weaver  unceasingly  bends  to  his  toil, — 
He  fashions  a  fabric  of  splendor  supernal, 
The  gods  to  adorn  in  their  peerless  domain, — 
A  garment  of  glory  to  grace  the  immortals , — 
A  mantle  of  love  for  the  children  ofheav'n. 


43 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 


BOOK   VI. 

There  is  a  love  which  cometh  with  the  spring, 

Unlike  the  gentle  love  of  friend  for  friend, 
A  love  which  is  not  joy,  nor  anything 

But  madness  and  desire  that  knows  no  end. 
It  cometh  like  the  bird  on  bounding  wing 

Amid  the  slumb'ring  winter  of  the  soul, 
Its  throat  too  full  of  melody,  to  sing 

The  ardent  rapture  struggling  for  control. 
Thus  Percival  had  felt  love's  sweetest  pain, 

And  known  its  fiercest  pang  of  fell  despair, 
Had  lapsed  into  a  dream  where  all  was  vain, 

Had  wakened  to  a  world  where  all  was  fair. 
Above  him  swept  the  boundless  waste  of  blue, 

Beneath  him  stretched  the  velvet  fields  of  green, 
Around  him  frailest  flowers  of  spring-time  grew, 

Beside  him  walked  the  maiden  Merodine. 

Ah  Merodine,  dear  Merodine, 
Large-eyed  and  tender  hearted, 

44 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

At  thy  name  the  birds  all  sang, 
And  swift  the  flowers  started 
From  their  sleep  to  see  thee  pass, 
Merodine,  dear  Merodine ! 
What  wonder,  then,  that  Percival  grew  pale  for  love 

of  thee ! 

What  wonder  that  he  gazed  upon  thy  pure  divinity 
And  felt  a  love  that  passeth  earth's  supreme  felicity ! 

Percival  and  Merodine ! 

Two  kindred  creatures  blent  in  one  ideal, 

Two  spirits  yearning  for  the  one  divine ! 

Now  Percival,  his  heart  aglow  with  love, 

Taught  his  dear  pupil  from  the  Prophet's  theme; 

And  she,  more  apt  than  he  had  been  of  old, 

Drank,  like  a  thirsting  bird  at  life's  cool  spring, 

The  mystery  and  prophecy  of  love. 

Upon  a  day  of  joy  went  Percival 

With  her  he  loved,  to  greet  his  cherished  friend, 

Who  welcomed  them  full  fondly,  gazing  long 

At  Merodine  with  tenderness  and  trust. 

Her  winning  grace  and  earnest  plaintive  eye 

He  could  not  view  insensibly,  and  she, 

With  adoration  due,  beheld  the  sage 

As  one  illumined  with  a  light  divine. 

It  was  a  passing  joy  to  Percival, 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Such  interchange  of  grace  and  love  to  find  — 

The  fresh  girl  fancy  tinged  with  vermeil  glow 

That  warmed  the  hoary  Prophet's  pensive  heart — 

Until  he  felt  steal  o'er  his  life  a  pang 

That  tempered  reason  strove  in  vain  to  quell; 

For  Merodine  was  his,  and  he  alone 

Should  treasure  her  heart-bounty,  and  should  store 

Each  fond  love-token  from  her  trembling  lip 

In  some  sequested  haunt  by  fancy  wrought. 

He  shunned  the  Master  now,  and  Merodine, 

Whene'er  she  spoke  of  him,  received  reply 

In  words  so  cold  they  seemed  reproving  her. 

Thus  passed  the  spring,  and  thus  the  summer  sped, 

A  wild  love  medley  with  the  thrush  sublime 

To  chant  the  vespers  'mid  the  solitude; 

And  autumn  came  and  vanished  like  a  dream, 

Leaving  stark  winter,  desolate  and  cold; 

But,  with  the  lapse  of  time,  no  word  was  said 

Of  him  whose  presence  daily  made  them  strong. 

Only  the  gentle  Merodine  was  sad 

At  thought  of  his  drear  solitude  and  pain. 

For  Percival  was  lost  in  love's  abyss, 

And  heard  no  tone  save  Merodine's  sweet  voice, 

And  saw  no  shape  save  Merodine's  dear  form. 

She  knew  not  why  such  joy  should  come  to  her, 

46 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

All  undeserving,  knew  not  why  such  bliss, 
Intense  to  painfulness,  was  hers  alone; 
And  sometimes,  with  her  mild,  enchanting  eyes, 
Beholding  him,  she  looked  within  his  soul 
And  trembled,  overawed  at  such  deep  love, 
And  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  losing  him. 


•47 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 


BOOK    VII. 

Happiness, — vain  rapture  of  an  hour, 

Frail  bubble  that  the  prick  of  pain  may  burst 

To  nothingness,  sweet  strain  that  dies  away 

With  th'  last  trembling  chord  that  strikes  the  ear, 

To  live  alone  in  memory's  sad  dream — 

Thy  fleeting  spell  is  shattered  into  dust 

As  time's  inexorable  touch  is  laid 

On  that  dear  mansion  of  the  deathless  soul! 

One  morning,  Merodine  bespoke  her  love, 

Her  fair  face  pallid  from  a  night  of  pain, 

And  said,  with  anxious  look,  and  earnest  tone: 

"  I  dreamed  of  Death  last  night;  I  saw  him  stand 

Beside  a  sea  of  sorrow.     In  his  hand 

A  pale  child  dangled,  with  its  waving  hair 

Tossed  in  the  mournful,  desecrating  air 

That  would  not  be  appeased.     A  mother's  cry 

Shuddered  about  his  form  unceasingly, 

Until  the  moldering  skulls  that  paved  the  earth 

48 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Shook,  and  looked  up  with  grins  of  ghastly  mirth; 

While  th'  cobweb  centuries,  about  them  grown, 

To  nothingness  were  pitilessly  blown. 

The  great  black  Death  stood  iron-like  and  stark, 

His  vacant  eyes  looked  forth  upon  the  dark, — 

When  O,  thank  God,  I  wakened  from  my  dream, 

And  saw  the  pale  moon  through  the  window  stream. 

"  Again  I  slept,  and  dreamed  of  Death  anew, — 

Of  Death,  the  seraph  fair,  with  eyes  of  blue, — 

Of  Death,  the  fond  restorer,  young  and  bright, 

Leading  the  troubled  soul  to  love  and  light,— 

Beside  still  waters  treading  meadows  green, 

In  that  wide  valley  of  the  great  unseen. 

So  lovely  did  he  seem,  that  loud  I  cried, 

O  take  me,  Death,  across  that  valley  wide!" 

It  was  a  portent  of  dread  circumstance, 

This  heavy-hearted  dream  that  bade  them  stare 

Upon  the  blackness  of  eternity 

In  wonder,  and  be  dumb  at  death's  stern  call. 

But  Percival  scorned  all  uncanny  things, 

And  deigned  not  hearken  to  an  idle  dream, 

Till  Merodine  recalled  the  Prophet,  lone, 

Unvisited,  save  by  the  wintry  air 

That  knew  no  pity  for  his  aged  head. 

Then  Percival  was  touched  with  sudden  fear; 

49 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

The  old  love  surged  across  his  life  again  — 

The  dear  companionship,  the  ardent  trust, 

The  cruel  months  of  cold  neglect  and  scorn, 

The  cruel  months  of  selfish  blissfulness ! 

"O  Merodine,  dear  Merodine!"  he  cried, 

"What  strange  enchantment  thou  didst  breed  in  me, 

To  seal  my  eyes  on  thy  dear  orbs  alone, 

And  with  thy  witchery  to  steal  away 

So  utterly  my  ev'ry  thought  and  dream  ! 

Straightway  I'll  find  him  now,  and  fresh  declare 

The  old  faith  stronger  grown  with  lapse  of  time." 

And  Merodine  said,  "Go,  and  tell  thy  love 

To  him  who  pines  for  human  fellowship." 

He  went,  her  mild  eyes  following  in  fear, 

Her  gentle  love  attending  him  afar. 


50 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 


BOOK    VIII. 

Well  mayst  thou  step  lightly,  Percival, 

And  timidly,  and  fearfully,  before 
The  Prophet's  door,  that  echoed  to  thy  knock 

So  loudly  and  so  cheerfully  of  yore. 
And  well  thy  heart  may  palpitate  with  dread, 

Thy  heart  that  beat  so  bravely  long  ago, 
And  well  thy  lips  may  question,  "  Is  he  dead?" 

And  well  thy  mind  may  fear  the  truth  to  know ! 

He  entered,  and  the  Prophet  lived,— O  joy, 

To  make  atonement  now  for  past  neglect, 

To  say  all  words  of  love  in  one  long  breath,— 

To  prove  his  pity  and  to  hide  his  shame! 

But  some  sad  change  the  Master's  bearing  showed, 

Some  shock  of  time  that  left  him  doubly  frail. 

He  looked  with  vacant  eye  at  Percival, 

Who  trembled  'neath  his  strange  unmeaning  stare, 

And  could  not  tell  the  love  oppressing  him. 

O  dear  old  man,  earth- weari'd,  still  enslaved 

51 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

In  life's  frail  shell,  the  spirit  loth  to  flee, 

Thou  hast  not  toiled  in  vain !     In  ampler  spheres 

Thy  soul  shall  seek  fulfillment,  earth-denied; 

In  vaster  hearts  thy  love  shall  throb  and  grow 

To  infinite  attainment,  God-ordain'd  ! 

But  Percival,  o'erwrought  with  pain  and  dread, 

Sobb'd  pitifully,  "  Master,  canst  not  hear? 

Have  thy  dear  eyes  forgot  their  cunning,  too?" 

The  Prophet  heard  his  speech  and  made  return: 

"  Well,  boy,  and  hast  thou  come  to  take  me  hence, 

Down  by  the  shore  of  the  billowy  sea 

Where  the  waters  lift  their  arms  of  snow 

To  beckon  the  wanderer  on  and  on 

O'er  the  sandy  waste  that  reaches  afar? 

We  have  wandered  oft  together,  boy,  and  oft 

Beside  the  sea  we  dreamed  our  wondrous  dream; 

And  now  I  cannot  fear  to  go  with  thee 

Along  that  endless  shore  we  looked  upon. 

But  first  I  have  some  words  to  say  to  thee,— 

Some  words  I  fain  would  speak  so  mightily 

That  all  mankind  their  syllables  would  hear, 

And  all  their  meaning  treasure  unto  death: 

"Marts  love  is  the  heart's  love,— man's  work  and  his 

lore 
Is  the  spirit's  assertion  of  freedom  and  life; 

52 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

Man's  hope  is  the  heart's  hope, —  man's  faith  and  his 

trust 

Is  the  spirit's  belief  in  the  beauty  of  truth; 
Man's  truth  is  the  soul's  truth, —  the  soul's  truth  is 

whole  truth, 
And  the  whole  truth  is  God  with  His  loving  of  Man. 

Man's  love  is  the  Lord's  love, —  man's  work  and  his 

lore 

Is  the  Lord's  mighty  planning,  revealed  in  His  sons; 
Man's  hope  is  the  Lord's  hope, — man's  faith  and  his  trust 
Is  the  faith  of  the  Lord  in  the  beauty  of  truth; 
Man' s  truth  is  the  Lord' s  truth,  that  smites  the  heart' s 

chords'  truth, 
And  the  heart's  chords  are  ringing  with  God's  love 

for  man." 

His  eyes  were  burning  with  unnatural  fire, 
His  limbs  were  tense  with  unconsum'd  desire, 
While  Percival  stood  speechless  and  afraid, 
Longing  to  help,  yet  stagger'd  and  dismay'd. 
Then,  on  the  impulse,  swift  as  bird  takes  wing, 
Towards  Merodine  the  youth  was  hurrying; 
And  soon  together  speeded  they  in  fear, 
Bent  to  the  lone  abode  of  him  so  dear, 
Who  wandered  deathwards  in  his  lorn  despair. 

53 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

But  death  is  not  so  fell  a  thing  to  thee, 

O  Prophet,  for  thy  mighty  heart  can  bear 

All  sorrows  to  oblivion,  and  see 

Death  shattered  by  the  soul's  immensity! 

When  Merodine  and  Percival  drew  nigh 

Their  best  beloved  friend,  so  soon  to  die, 

They  could  not  weep,  o'eraw'd  by  such  sublime 

Communion  on  the  verge  of  parting  time; 

They  could  not  speak,  but  only  looked  their  pain  — 

Their  eyes  grown  eloquent  where  words  were  vain. 

At  last  the  Prophet  noticed  them,  and  said, 

"Who  art  thou?  some  dear  spirits  of  the  dead, 

Sent  to  convey  my  weary  soul  afar, 

Sky-dwellers  wander' d  from  thy  lucent  star?" 

"  Nay,  Master,"  Percival  replied;  "thy  end 

Is  not  so  near.     Thy  way  shall  trend 

Still  on  amid  life's  labyrinth  of  good, 

Thy  soul  denied  death's  somber  sisterhood." 

New  strength  infused  the  Prophet's  sinking  frame, 

As  thus  uprose  his  last  supreme  proclaim: 

"  There  is  no  death,  for  the  soul  must  measure  the 

soul; 

And  the  world  is  a  dream,  and  the  wold  that  we  deem 
The  end  of  the  soul,  like  the  clouds  that  roll, 
Will  melt  from  the  light  into  mist  of  the  night, 

54 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

And  sing  in  its  flight  of  the  beautiful  whole. 
There  is  no  death, —  and  the  grave,  like  the  wave, 
Sweeps  over  our  heads,  till  we  sink  in  its  bed, 
To  rise  with  the  dead,  from  our  turbulent  cave. 

"  The  world  is  a  dream,  and  its  white  ghosts  teem 
In  the  tottering  brain;  but  we  seek  in  vain 
For  the  host  of  the  dead,  who  are  fled!  fled!  fled! 
They  have  fled  into  life,  they  have  burst  from  the 

strife 

Of  the  world  of  to-day,  with  its  doubt  and  dismay, — 
And  their  fleet  steps  wend  toward  the  limitless  end, 
With  its  infinite  gain  they  may  never  attain; 
But  the  rapture  of  striving  and  growing  will  blend 
With  the  longings  that  ever  with  love  will  contend, 
As  they  see  through  the  tears  of  eternity,  far, 
God's  love,  like  the  light  of  His  passionate  star." 

Thus  ending,  Merodine  bent  over  him, 

And  kissed  his  brow,  and  wept,  while  Percival 

Enclasped  his  hand  —  his  heart  too  full  for  words. 

Then,  with  a  passing  sigh,  the  Master's  soul 

Slipped  from  the  dull  entanglement  of  earth, 

In  ampler  spheres  to  labor  up  to  God. 

Weep,  earth  children,  weep  for  him  who  loved 

Both  thee  and  all  thy  people  far  and  wide; 

65 


THE    PROMISE    OF    THE    AGES. 

For  he  has  gone  from  thee  and  left  thee  lone  ! 

But  O  rejoice  to  know  thy  heritage 

Which  time  cannot  efface,  nor  change  can  mar ! 

Here,  in  the  awful  presence  of  the  dead, 

Rejoice  in  that  great  heritage  of  love. 

For,  out  of  death,  the  soul,  reborn,  shall  wing 

Its  way  in  glory  'mid  a  fairer  spring, 

And,  out  of  doubt  and  pain,  shall  rise  to  be 

Love's  emblem,  bearing  hope  and  immortality, 

Singing  afar  in  God's  grand  hierarchy: 

Spirits  of  beauty,  in  glory  attired, 
I  call  thee  and  claim  thee,  by  heaven  inspired! 
Together  we  'II  float  through  the  azure  sublime 
On  pinions  of  love,  where  the  turmoil  of  time 
Is  lost  in  the  infinite  glory  of  light, 
Transcending  the  lowly,  uplifting  the  right; 
Together  we  '//  sing  with  the  spheres  that  are  chanting 
A  love  that  overreaches  our  passionate  panting ; 
Together  we  'II  triumph  o'er  trouble  and  pain, 
Recalled  from  earth's  toil  to  an  ampler  domain; 
And  Gcd  shall  await  us,  completing  His  plan 
When  the  conquering  angel  has  wrestled  with  man. 


•      , 
tJIIVBES 


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